Sunday, 6 February 2011

I hate birthdays.

Tomorrow is my 36th birthday, and it's unwound me a bit. I'm in self pity mode and it's not pretty. I haven't slept properly for more than a week.

As much as I try to be pragmatic and positive about my life, I am lonely. I feel like i'm past my sell by date. Any notions I had about what I'd do with my life always and only extended to thinking about what I'd do before I got married and had kids.

Instead, I'm sitting here on Sunday morning with my laptop wondering what i'm going to do with my life.

My birthday always does this to me. It seems to serve as a marker of what I haven't done rather than what I have done. I'm embarrassed if ever there's fuss made. It brings out the very worst in me.


  1. I've always thought of birthdays as a celebration of life. Somehow we have survived another year despite all the shit the gods have thrown at us.

    Happy Birthday for tomorrow. If you're still alive, then there is still the possibility to make changes :)

  2. Thanks Kim and as always - wise words!

  3. Birthdays to me are a sanity check on progress. Some years good, some amazing, but in the end it's always a question of reflecting on things achieved and setting future goals. The next day is better, as you can slip back to routine and forget about unwelcome life pressures.

    But still it's amazing how much you learn in a year.

  4. Edward, thanks for stopping by...and I could do with lerning a little from you more optimistic view of the annual marker!